


you are a storm, and i am caught up in you

by xviichapters



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Domestic, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Angst, literally just 9k words of seungcheol being whipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24538132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xviichapters/pseuds/xviichapters
Summary: It was anyone’s bet whenever Joshua came into the picture.He was unpredictable and exciting - just like how he'd set Seungcheol’s whole world turning the moment he walked into it.***Between summer showers and winter storms, they fall in love. [Coup de Cœur Round 1]
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Hong Jisoo | Joshua
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62
Collections: Coup de Cœur - Round 1





	you are a storm, and i am caught up in you

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: Seungcheol waking up to a home— no longer just an apartment. In this little space they’ve built up together, Seungcheol and Joshua have turned Seungcheol’s one mundane and boring life into something worth living.
> 
> * * *
> 
>   
>  _to sana, leo, fry, ysa, alvi, sabrina (aka 'cheolsooists'),_   
>  despite how far apart we are or how little we talk because of where life has taken us, i am glad to still be able to call you all my friends.    
>    
>    
>  _to Moon,_   
>  you will never read this, but you were there when i first began writing this story so i guess it is only natural that pieces of you seeped into the following words. this is the story of us, if i had only been a better enough person to stay. i wish you well.  
> love, ai  
>    
>    
> 

Seungcheol remembers the exact moment he meets Joshua.

It was a Wednesday in a café; he sat by the window and there were school children passing by outside. He remembers thinking about when he was still a kid; the daydreams he used to have about what his older self might be doing, and the things he thought he would’ve already accomplished. He remembers reminiscing, a sort of bittersweet taste filling his mouth – something like regret and a dash of sadness. He was thinking about his youth and all the opportunities he missed simply because he was too caught up with tests, exams, living day to day, living for someone else, living inside his head.

There was also this brief feeling of grief, almost, for the person he could’ve been. If, at any point he had treated basketball as more than just a passing fancy, if he had taken up that scholarship, if only he’d–

In short, Seungcheol was doing what he did best: overthinking.

His laptop cursor blinked unforgivingly in front of him, reminding him of the paper he was supposed to be writing but never began.

He remembered thinking: exactly when will my life begin?

And that’s when it happened.

Joshua, coming in like a lightning strike.

* * *

“Hi, can I sit here?”

The words come so suddenly that Seungcheol is snapped from his thoughts, heart racing. It takes him a moment to reorientate himself. He blinks slowly, realizing a beat too late that there was a stranger looking at him. The stranger smiles, and it’s one of those that turn Seungcheol ridiculously shy, “I’m sorry to disturb you. Is this seat free?”

Seungcheol glances quickly around the room, partly to avoid the stranger’s gaze; the café is unusually crowded today.

There doesn’t seem to be room anywhere else and Seungcheol isn’t so cold as to turn him away. He pulls his bag off the opposite chair, offering up the seat.

“Yeah, you can sit here.” He’s mumbling so softly he wonders if the other can hear or if he has to try again. Thankfully, the other man could, and he settles down across from him quickly enough.

Seungcheol is no stranger to sharing tables; spend time by yourself enough and you begin to realize that you are not the only one, and that despite any personal desire for solitude, we are all inherently wired to flock together. And yet, there is this uneasy feeling that he can’t seem to shake off, an awkwardness that prevails even though it should have dissipated in the following seconds after the first encounter.

That’s when he realizes: the stranger was looking at him. _Still_ looking at him, he corrects mentally.

Seungcheol quickly meets his gaze, and the man smiles.

“I’m Joshua. Nice to meet you.”

Seungcheol blinks. Is he supposed to reply? He isn’t sure; this has never happened before. But the stranger – _Joshua_ – is still smiling at him and Seungcheol doesn’t want to be rude. He drops his gaze to Joshua’s hands instead, so he wouldn’t be blinded by his smile. ( _It’s a mistake. Joshua has nice hands; large and strong, with veins that travelled up thin wrists and lean fingers ending in callused tips. He was probably a musician. Maybe a pianist?)_

He almost forgets to reply.

“I’m Seungcheol. Nice to meet you too.”

And that should be it. That should be where all this ends. But like summer showers, things rarely go the way anyone plans.

Joshua is a _hummer_ it seems. It’s nothing Seungcheol isn’t used to – he has encountered all sorts of seat partners – but Joshua dances in his chair and doesn’t care that Seungcheol’s watching. Joshua orders his coffee black and puts in absolutely no sugar. He writes into a notebook instead of typing on a laptop, and his handwriting is tiny; like little ants marching across thin blue string.

Seungcheol should be writing his own paper; he should be hitting the five-hundred-word mark by now, should be making _some_ sort of progress _at least._ But then Joshua asks, _“Can I borrow a pencil? I forgot to bring mine”_ and Seungcheol is suddenly intrigued by the lilt in his voice, the accent that places him from somewhere else but here and then he can’t stop his mind from spinning fairy tales about his temporary desk partner – where he was from, where he was headed, what consumes his days.

 _(And really, why does Seungcheol have a pencil anyway? What possessed him to bring one out today? He never uses a pencil. He’s only ever needed his laptop. So why today? Why now, when this man, this_ Joshua _apparently needed one?)_

Joshua is watching him. Seungcheol only just noticed. Which is surprising considering Seungcheol had been doing the same thing to the other man for quite some time now.

Seungcheol fumbles to hide the fact that he had been caught staring, furiously smashing something onto his keyboard. When he looks back up, Joshua's gaze is still on him. Seungcheol feels like he should say something. “Did I… Was I disturbing you?”

Joshua has golden brown eyes, Seungcheol notes, and they’re crinkled with amusement now, “You think too loud.”

Seungcheol is baffled. “I’m… sorry?”

Joshua laughs and it's light, sincere. “Don’t be. Although, I think the future you would very much appreciate it if you started working properly on your paper right now.”

 _Right._ His essay. He should… Do that.

“You should.”

Seungcheol didn’t realize he said that out loud. He’s blushing violently now but at least he’s finally starting on his assignment.

He doesn't notice Joshua quirk a smile.

* * *

The cafe has started kicking people out.

It’s 10.45pm and they close in fifteen minutes. No one tries to get Seungcheol to move because he’s a regular here, so they know he won’t overstay his welcome, and thus by extension, Joshua gets to stay a little longer too. But Joshua is done with his drink and has closed his notebook. He’s just… observing Seungcheol again.

It should be creepy.

But the introduction earlier seemed to have work; we are kinder to people we know the names of, even if just barely, so Seungcheol lets him watch. No harm done. It’s also an interesting tactic; using something as simple as a name to break the ice. Sneaky. Seungcheol isn’t sure what to make of that.

Seungcheol can’t help but ask, “Are you not going?”

“Do you study here a lot?” Joshua counters instead.

Seungcheol thinks for a moment and then realizes he’s not going to get any more work done. He closes his laptop and assesses Joshua. “Yes.”

“Hmmm.” Joshua doesn’t say anything else, just packs all his things into a backpack and Seungcheol assumes it’s the end of that. Just an odd day in the same café – a small break in his routine, welcomed and appreciated. It has been a long string of seemingly similar days blending into one despite it being summer break and Seungcheol was grateful for even this; an unusual part-conversation with an unexpected acquaintance instead of the tired companions of overplayed music and silence.

Seungcheol packs up too as the lights go down.

It really should have been the end of that.

Except it isn’t.

_“Can I have your number?”_

Seungcheol is startled out of his wits. He blinks, unsure if he heard right. Joshua pulls out his phone, face uncertain. “Please?”

“Umm…” No one has asked him for his number before. He’s nervous and doesn’t know what to do. And when he doesn’t know what to so, Seungcheol tends to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind which happens to be, “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Why not?”

_Why not?_

Seungcheol could come up with plenty of reasons why not!

But they get ignored as he shakily keys in the digits into Joshua’s phone. Joshua is grinning like a drunk fool the whole time. When he sends a short text to the number Seungcheol gave, the resultant ping in his back pocket seems to brighten Joshua’s smile tenfold.

“I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?” he says.

And before Seungcheol can say anything else, Joshua is walking out the door and away.

Seungcheol collapses back onto his chair. He isn’t sure what just happened.

Did… Was Joshua _interested_ in him?

 _Why? Did he look cute today? Did he do something particularly interesting?_ Seungcheol didn’t think so, and he certainly isn’t the type of person to get hit on randomly. He was plain and boring; not particularly ugly, but not exactly a head-turner either. He’s just normal. So why?

There’s a shout somewhere off to his left from one of the café’s staff, reminding him that they’re closing.

He gets up, lets his legs walk him into the night, so the biting air can freeze his brain and stop it from running into overdrive.

* * *

The first text is of a cat.

A random cat; very cute, non-threatening.

The second text is a link to a song that Seungcheol clicked on and listened to and liked. He saves it to a random playlist, and sends a text back, thanking the other man because it seemed like the right thing to do.

All it does is set off an avalanche.

Joshua sends him memes and sunsets, his favourite playlists and voice memos of song covers, walls of text and twenty questions, and he never stops, never gives up, even if all Seungcheol replies with are dumb stickers and bland one-liners.

He doesn’t know how Joshua can do this; be so… engaged, so interested in his boring old self. Normally, such responses would warrant no reply after a while, but Joshua never seemed to mind.

He wakes up to good morning texts now (which he feels obliged to return) and goes to bed with _good night, sweet dreams,_ which somehow work damn near a prayer because he’s been sleeping like a baby these days.

Seungcheol wonders, is Joshua magic?

Now the bag he puts on the opposite chair has a purpose, and even if he switches it up, moves to the back where its dimmer but warmer, Joshua has no trouble finding him in the crowd of people.

Sometimes, when he feels like changing up the scenery, Seungcheol would go to the library or a different café. Joshua would ask where he was and comes, without fail, even if its somewhere far off. Seungcheol tries to push him away, say _it's fine, it's boring, you don’t have to_ , but Joshua pointedly ignores him and soon Seungcheol stops trying.

He’s starting to find that he enjoys the company.

Joshua follows him to grocery stores, parks, the pet shop when Seungcheol runs out of fish food. In turn, he lets Joshua pick the lunch spots, what brand of cereal he should try next, which ice-cream place to visit.

Seungcheol can’t decipher why anyone would want to spend their time with him like this, and why that person just so happens to be someone as attractive as Joshua.

Surely, he has other things to do? People more compelling than Seungcheol to meet, places far more fascinating to visit than the inside of a quaint café or the quiet shelves of a dusty old library?

It is summer and there’s an entire world outside to traverse, but Joshua stays indoors with him, scribbling into that notebook now three-quarters full, talking about this or that, sharing stories.

Then one day he says, “I have an extra ticket. Come with?”

Somewhere along the way, Seungcheol has found he can’t so no. He vaguely feels like one of Pavlov’s dogs, but Joshua brings more to his life than just his favourite snack, and Seungcheol finds he doesn’t mind being the subject of a thought experiment if the one pulling him along is Joshua.

They watch a movie, something about a boy who’s off searching for his grandfather’s spirit in the underworld, and Joshua cries. Openly. Seungcheol finds it isn’t so hard to let out tears of his own after that.

* * *

“You free next weekend?”

“Why?”

“Let’s go dancing.”

_“What?”_

* * *

They go dancing. Joshua’s a slow learner but dedicated. He takes one, two, three tries to get the moves right but he does, eventually. Seungcheol, meanwhile, finds he’s got a surprising knack for it. He never knew.

When Joshua looks at him, his eyes are shining with admiration. “You’re really good at this.”

“It’s nothing–”

“You’re amazing.”

And Seungcheol blushes because no one has really told him he was _amazing_ before and never in that tone; never with such sincerity.

He tries again, “It’s really nothing.”

“Choi Seungcheol, will you please believe me?” Joshua cups his cheeks and squishes them playfully, much to Seungcheol’s annoyance. “You’re truly, stupidly, fantastically, amazing at dancing and I am very proud of you.”

Despite the awkward position, Joshua’s voice was unwavering. “Do you believe me now?”

Seungcheol swallows. Nods. “I believe you.”

And he does. How can he not, when Joshua has so much faith in him? The other finally laughs, letting go of his cheeks and patting them gently where he’d pulled too hard. Seungcheol pouts and Joshua coos like a mother hen. It was a good day.

“Aren’t you glad you came?”

“Yeah.”

* * *

The heat kicks in. Suddenly its August. Suddenly he’s known Joshua for a month, nearly two. He knows his coffee order too, his favourite cakes, his favourite kind of music.

He’s an English major with a minor in Music. He wants to write songs for a living. When he laughs, he crinkles his nose.

His birthday is in December, close to the last day of the year. He was born in LA.

But if he knows all these things about Joshua, then Joshua seems to know twice as much about him.

Sometimes Seungcheol arrives at the café later than the other, and already his daily coffee and favourite sandwich would be waiting for him. Somehow, Joshua figured out that Seungcheol often forgets to set his alarm before going to sleep, so he calls him every morning in its place. Joshua also knows his usual brand of shampoo (because they go grocery shopping together more times than Seungcheol ever intended) and that he’s scared of loud noises.

And the very least of all, he knows Seungcheol’s birthday, and how it’s been a long time since he’s properly celebrated it.

“Let’s go to the beach.”

It isn’t a question.

Seungcheol can’t find it in himself to deny him. He’s found he _likes_ being dragged along with whatever whimsy Joshua has in mind.

“Okay.”

* * *

Have you seen the beach at the break of dawn?

Seungcheol has, now.

The sunrise sets Joshua’s brown eyes on fire.

There’s no one around to see this; the spilling of pink into endless blue, the waters turning purple, Joshua shimmering to life.

(Not literally. But it’s a near thing.)

There is something about the water when it has just freshly come in with the tide. The seagulls screech and the waves crash and the wind whips past your ears. It’s loud and mighty but also quiet, for the rest of the world is still asleep and you feel safe and buoyed from its demands.

Seungcheol has never felt such peace. But he has now. Because Joshua brought him.

The man in question tugs at his hand.

“Help me look for beach glass?”

“What’s beach glass?” Seungcheol doesn’t know, but after Joshua shows him the first piece, he wants to find every single one on this beach and the next, to gift it to this man beside him, and further light up his bright-eyed smile.

They paw up and down the coast, finding broken shards and sorting through the best ones like little children on their first beach day. Joshua holds up every other one to the light to see how bright it sparkles and Seungcheol holds them up against Joshua to see him tinted in multi-colours.

“Thank you,” Seungcheol manages to say after they’ve come kilometres to the other end, their fading footprints getting washed away behind them.

“For what?”

“For dragging me out here.” Seungcheol watches the horizon. There are ships, sailing away. “I… I’ve never seen a sunrise. It’s beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” A pause. They both burst out laughing.

“Stop.”

“But you are.” Joshua’s wearing a shit-eating grin. “You’re like the Sun bringing all the colour out.”

He shakes his head. He has to disagree. He points to the sliver of white, off to the left. “Nah. I’m that moon. I’m just here to stare in awe.”

“At what?”

“At the actual Sun.” Seungcheol turns to Joshua. “At you.”

It’s quiet. There’s no one around.

And that’s where they first kiss.

_(Joshua tastes like salt air and old memories)._

* * *

_“Happy birthday, Cheol.”_

_“Thank you, Shua.”_

* * *

Joshua has the crazy idea of going stargazing.

The weather is slowly but surely turning cold again, and the balmy summer nights were running out. Soon, chilly winds would start rolling back in and make staying outside near impossible. It feels foreboding, like something final.

Seungcheol pushes the thought away.

Joshua picks him up at seven in a pickup truck which he apparently acquired from one of his friends who works at a bike repair shop. He tosses his backpack filled with blankets and a change of clothes into the truck bed, and Joshua leans in for a peck. Seungcheol fumbles a bit; he's still trying to get used to it.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Seungcheol stutters, ears turning red.

Joshua’s leaning against the wheel, practically mesmerized. “Can’t help it. You’re adorable.”

“Fucking drive, Shua.”

Joshua laughs, but does as he says.

They drive an hour into the countryside with the sun setting behind them.

Unlike sunrises, sunsets are more saturated; bright and fierce and loud. But when the colours bleed out into night, it's a sudden thing – ruby fading straight to black – and then they were driving through a galaxy. Seungcheol has his window down, letting the cold air run pierce his face and run through his hair.

They pull up onto winding country roads and there were hardly any other cars passing by.

“You sure you’re not abducting me?”

“I’d never,” Joshua grins, “Not unless I tell a friend first.”

“You don’t know any of my friends.”

“Exactly.”

Seungcheol scrunches his nose but lets Joshua have his fun, toggling with the stereo instead. It’s old, still equipped with a CD player, but he couldn't seem to get the radio to work.

“Try this.” Joshua tosses him a CD case from one of the driver's side pockets. “It’s a mixtape I made from back in like middle school.”

The case itself was a cheap flimsy thing, but Joshua had taken the time to give it cover art, and on the inside, there was a complete tracklist of all the songs featured. A watercolour heart stares up at him. “ _Looking for Some Mutual Love…_ Why do you still have this?”

Joshua shrugs. “For memories sake.”

“Then why does your _friend_ have this?”

Joshua stares at him pointedly. “Seungcheol. Who do you think even owns CDs anymore?”

He’s got a point there.

Seungcheol pops the disk into the player and songs about falling in love fill the booth. Joshua sings along, his gentle voice soothing a certain longing in Seungcheol’s heart.

They don’t say much after that, but there isn’t much need to.

* * *

Seungcheol doesn’t know much about stars but he can at least point out the Big Dipper if the sky was clear enough. From there he also knew how to find the North Star and then piece together the Little Dipper if he tries really hard. He was pretty proud of himself for that.

Then Joshua pulls out a literal telescope and Seungcheol realizes he’s way in over his head. It’s huge; about twice as wide as his arms and three times longer. He wonders why he didn’t notice it before when he was storing his things in the back.

“Why do you even have that?” Seungcheol asks, curious. Joshua sets up with the efficiency of an experienced astronomer, which he probably was.

“I used to do this a lot back in Cali,” Joshua explains. “The lights aren’t as harsh there, even in the city, so I could still do this in my own backyard.”

Joshua sounds wistful.

“Do you miss it?” Seungcheol murmurs.

“What?”

“America.” Seungcheol has got a fist full of wildflowers in his hands, and he begins weaving them into a chain. “Your friends there… the life you had.”

Its silent for so long Seungcheol thinks he’s said something wrong. He looks up, fearing the worst. But Joshua is just amused, watching him with something akin to – Seungcheol doesn’t want to say it, but – _adoration,_ almost _._

“Cheol, you think too much.” Joshua rubs his face; looks away. “It’s too cute.”

Seungcheol burns.

He briefly feels like they’re trapped in a bubbly panel of a shoujo manga. He hopes the lamps they lit up aren’t bright enough to show how red his face feels.

Then Joshua’s hand appears in his vision, weaving their fingers together. He pulls him towards the telescope. “Come on. I’ve finished setting it up.”

Joshua is gentle and patient, and Seungcheol fears this soft moment would snap.

He helps Seungcheol see through the eyeglass and points out the different kinds of constellations. There’s Orion and Hercules, Sagittarius and the Summer Triangle. Seungcheol’s very sure he’ll forget all of them once they get back. But at present, they are dazzling and fascinating, and listening to Joshua retell the myths behind each makes him want to drown in this feeling alone.

When they get tired, they lay side by side and map out constellations of their own. Joshua rests his head on Seungcheol’s arm; Seungcheol throws a leg over the other's thigh. Then his hands are on his sides, Joshua is hovering over him, their faces hardly a centimetre apart.

The moment feels charged, like the staticky air before a lightning show.

Under an umbrella of stars, Joshua pins him with a kiss so spectacular nebulas burst and planets erupt in the back of his eyes. There are strong hands, tangled limbs, gasping breaths. Joshua bites and devours and Seungcheol returns the favour twofold. They kiss like they’ll suffocate if they go a second without.

They stay out longer than they intended.

Neither mind.

* * *

They go back to Joshua’s place so they can both bath and change. Seungcheol thinks about making the bus ride back to his apartment.

“Sleep over.”

“What?” Seungcheol isn’t sure he heard right.

“Stay. You’re clean, it's late, and I have an extra futon.” Joshua’s voice is firm. “Just for tonight.”

Seungcheol freezes. Something in him sets off a fight-or-flight response. But a tiny, smaller part betrays his desire to do as Joshua bids.

Meeting Joshua’s eyes is a mistake; there’s something in them that is impossible to refuse. Seungcheol tries, anyway. “You could, maybe drop me off–”

“Nah,” Joshua denies, but there’s amusement around his lips. “I’m tired. Maybe later.”

Seungcheol pouts.

Joshua leans back enticingly, inviting him closer. “But you can always stay.”

Stay.

Staying meant sleeping next to Joshua, listening to him breathe, waking up to an unfamiliar ceiling but with warmth next to him. Staying might also mean having breakfast together, taking another bath, maybe borrowing Joshua’s clothes – kissing passionately in the daylight. The alarm bells flutter anew. He should go. He knows that if he asks one more time, Joshua would give in and drive him home, despite earlier protests.

But Joshua’s expression is sincere and open, and his eyes beg for a leap of faith.

Okay.

“Okay,” Seungcheol speaks, unbidden. “I’ll stay. Just for tonight.”

_(It’s a lie. But neither of them know it yet, and just for now, this is enough.)_

* * *

When September rolls around, Seungcheol thinks, _ah, this is it. This is where all this ends._

Because all good things eventually do, and the past summer with Joshua has been one of the best times of his life.

September is also when university starts back up again. In Seungcheol’s experience, no one sticks around long after that. Because for him, the new semester meant being cooped up in the studio working late nights and early mornings, McDonald’s takeout for dinner and his friends forgetting to call.

Seungcheol is a fourth-year architecture student, and he’s getting used to the solitude by now. Everyone’s busy with their own thing and Seungcheol is harder to reach than most. Sometimes, he forgets he has texts to reply to, and when he finally gets around to them, the topic has turned stale and the conversation has died.

The Design campus is also too far away from the main building for anyone in their right mind to be casually passing by. Common lunchtimes are hard to coordinate. Even his own course mates have their own groups of friends, their own spare change of time to spend on social activities and all Seungcheol’s left with is trying to catch up.

In short, Seungcheol is prepared for the inevitable; of Joshua fading out from his life once Seungcheol takes too long to respond one too many times.

Except–

Except Seungcheol really doesn’t want him to.

So, he tries. Texts back in between bathroom breaks, picks up the Facetime call even if he’s bone-tired and ready to pass out. But Seungcheol knows Joshua can see the dark circles gathering under his eyes; can hear in his tone how distant he’s becoming. Vaguely, he feels like Joshua is slipping away. Something aches in his chest.

Outside, dark clouds gather and thunder rumbles.

“What time are you free today?” Joshua asks one day over the phone.

“Any time,” Seungcheol replies, because it’s not like he’s going to be anywhere else but the studio anyway, “And no time at all.”

A beat of silence. “Ah. I understand.”

Suddenly, Seungcheol realizes it was the wrong thing to say. Of course, _of course_ Joshua would say he understands. They always do, even when they don’t – not really. But they don’t want to be rude, don’t want to impose. Seungcheol sometimes wishes they would be, just once. White lies often hurt harder than the truth.

The silence grows over the line. Fear and guilt swirl within him, pulling him in opposite directions. Seungcheol thinks he should try harder, wants so badly to say that his plans have freed up, to carve a pocket of time just to see Joshua one last time. But he also doesn’t want to seem like a liar. Like he can’t make up his mind, like Joshua isn’t worthy of decisive action–

_“I’ll come over then.”_

The words stop Seungcheol’s spiralling thoughts in its tracks.

“You’ll… what?” Seungcheol can’t keep the surprise out of his voice.

“I’ll come over. You’re busy right?”

“Y-yeah, but–”

“Okay. Focus on that. I’ll bring you lunch.” There’s a grin in Joshua’s tone, and Seungcheol let’s himself hope. “Which ramen do you want?”

And that… catches him completely off-guard, all for a different reason.

See the thing is, sometimes Seungcheol gets so stressed he can’t comprehend choices. There were small choices, like – _white chocolate or dark chocolate?_ _McDonald’s or Burger King? Yes or no?_ And then there were big ones, the kinds that aren’t multiple-choice and require thinking and stringing discrete words into coherent sentences.

Those were hard and overwhelming and take too much time, so when someone _does_ want to come over and they ask, _“Do you want me to get you anything?”_ Seungcheol panics and says, “No, I’m fine. I just ate” when he did not; probably has not since the morning.

So for Joshua to inherently know what to ask… The tiny spark of hope bursts up into embers.

“Curry, if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course. Anything for you, Cheollie.” He hangs up and Seungcheol is left wanting.

_Stay. Don’t go._

He doesn’t have to wait too long.

Joshua comes with a takeaway bowl of steaming curry ramen and there’s even some meat in there, and vegetables.

“Where’d you get all the other stuff?” Seungcheol’s curious.

“I brought them.” Joshua blinks like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You can’t eat ramen just like that.”

“I beg to differ.” But Seungcheol really has no right to complain. This is the most balanced meal he’s had in a few days. He's scarfing down his food in seconds.

Joshua frowns over at him. “You need to eat properly to keep your energy up.”

“No time.”

“Then I’ll force you.”

Joshua starts pulling plastic containers filled with more dishes and some fruits from his bag, along with his own packed lunch and– his laptop.

“You’re staying?”

“I can’t?” Joshua asks, confused.

“No! I mean, no, yes you can! Stay. I mean.” Seungcheol can’t believe this. He really can’t. “I just. Didn’t think you would want to.”

“Why not?” As he talks, Joshua starts dropping more of the extra dishes into Seungcheol’s bowl; some chicken, some pork, stir-fried broccoli, and baby tomatoes. “You’re the best kind of company.”

Seungcheol thinks this is too good to be true. He reminds himself not to be so naïve. He blushes anyway. “I’m really not.”

“You really are.” Joshua smiles, the one that Seungcheol can’t deny. “Let’s eat yeah? I’ll bring bibimbap tomorrow.”

He comes the next day as promised, and then two days after that – sporadic and unpredictable but always with some food and his work to keep Seungcheol company. As it turns out, all Seungcheol really needed was the warmth of another person assuring him he was not alone, and the occasional conversation, for the studio not to feel so hellish on his psyche.

Joshua continues to hum and they share snacks and it’s like summer days at the café simply bled into their life in university.

The night before interims Joshua stays up with him to cheer him on. He sends him specially curated playlists to help him focus. And on crit day, he comes with Seungcheol from the printer’s and helps him pin up his boards.

He’ll sit at the back, takes Seungcheol’s photos, grins at him with pride.

_I’m here for you. You’re doing amazing. Have faith in yourself._

Seungcheol is starting to believe those words to be true.

* * *

He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him.

Maybe it was the long day of classes, maybe it was how the exhaustion has triggered the part of him that moved on instinct alone, or maybe it was just how comfortable and warm Joshua had felt that one time, and how he needed exactly that just for today.

Maybe it was all of the above.

But before he really knew what was happening, Seungcheol finds himself on the train line heading to Joshua’s apartment, then later buzzing the building’s intercom to be let in.

“Seungcheol?” Joshua sounds surprised but delighted.

“Can I… Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course!” the gate buzzes and his feet carry him through the door. He finds himself in the kitchen, where Joshua has his back turned, preparing dinner. Without thinking, he falls forward and wraps his arms around Joshua’s waist.

Joshua startles, but doesn’t move.

Seungcheol is slightly larger but Joshua is broader, so he buries his head into the space between Joshua’s shoulders and shuts his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. It felt like suddenly, a great weight was lifted off his chest and he could breathe again.

Joshua is saying something, maybe some words of concern, but he blocks the sound out, content to just stay like this. Maybe fall asleep here too – it’s comfortable.

“Something the matter, Cheol?” Joshua murmurs, a hint of amusement in his tone. Seungcheol starts to shake his head but then shrugs, burying even closer. A short huff of laughter. “Which is it Cheol? Hmm?”

“Sleepy,” the younger finally mumbles, “Nap. You’re warm.”

Joshua turns around then, forcing him to pull away and it unwittingly brings a pout to his lips. He quickly rectifies the problem, leaning forward again to rest his head on Joshua’s shoulder instead. With Joshua carding strong hands through his hair, Seungcheol decides coming here was a mistake he’s glad he made.

“Do you wanna go to the bed? It’s much more comfortable to nap while lying down.”

“Mmm, later.”

“You’re going to fall asleep standing, Cheol.”

“Okay.”

Joshua chuckles and Seungcheol laughs along in his half-asleep state, though he isn’t very sure what’s so funny. Joshua ends up dragging him to the bedroom, dropping him gently onto the bed. Seungcheol suddenly feels like being particularly childish today. He raises his hands up, letting his eyes droop to feign sleepiness.

Joshua blinks. “You want me to help you undress?”

Seungcheol nods. He misses the grin Joshua tries to hide.

“You’re such a baby.” But a few seconds later Seungcheol feels him come forward, deft fingers unbuttoning his coat, then pulling off his sweater.

“God why are you in so many layers? It’s only September.”

“Cold,” Seungcheol replies plaintively.

“It’s _at least_ 18 degrees.”

“See? Cold.”

Seungcheol really is falling asleep by this point. He can hardly tell anymore what Joshua has already gotten off him. He’s never been this vulnerable before; especially not so quickly, especially not _openly._

But there’s something about Joshua that’s easy to trust; like you could tell him all your deepest secrets and you would be assured that he would take them to his grave.

Something about Joshua that makes him feel like he finally made it home.

He’s lying down before he knows it, covers pulled tight under his chin.

“Sleep tight, my dear.” There’s a soft press to his forehead, and then he’s truly asleep.

* * *

After that, Joshua would come over to his apartment every few days, just to check up on him and hold him. They’d have dinner and fall asleep to movies.

Joshua brings along an overnight bag filled with a change of clothes and toiletries but always leaves with it empty. There’s a blanket of his thrown over the couch which Seungcheol loves and insists he gets to keep, and sometimes Seungcheol will use Joshua’s shampoo because it smells nicer.

Seungcheol gets him his favourite coffee brew for the next morning because Joshua can’t stay awake without it. White bread changed to wholegrains, an extra towel in the bathroom.

It’s simple. It’s easy.

It is a typhoon quieting into a steady drizzle.

* * *

Every October 4th, Yoon Jeonghan, one of the most notorious men on campus, throws a giant party for his birthday. This year it’s at Jackson Wang’s place, because he’s out of town for the weekend and was willing to loan it out to Jeonghan, and everyone knows the best parties happen at his.

But the venue didn’t really matter. What matters was the guest list. It rotates and is reviewed every year, but no matter how much time passes and how often the seasons change, Seungcheol always has and always will be invitee #1. This is because Seungcheol made the unfortunate life decision to befriend the once quiet and meek Yoon Jeonghan as a five-year-old, and they’ve been stuck together ever since.

Don’t get him wrong; Seungcheol loves Jeonghan – as much as someone could love a person they grew up as snot-nosed children with, chasing each other around with the threat of boogers and ruining neighbours’ yards – which is essentially equivalent to loving a very annoying sibling. Jeonghan, as an individual, was caring, lovely, and kind.

Jeonghan surrounded by his friends at a college house party with neon lighting and bass booted, however, was a hangover waiting to happen. And this happens every year, and every year Seungcheol would find and excuse to get out of it.

Jeonghan would be angry for the moment, but he was easily appeased by a big cake, a free meal, and a whole day spent hanging out with just Seungcheol, which suited him just fine.

And he was going to do the same thing too, this year, except–

“I heard Yoon Jeonghan’s throwing a massive party again for his birthday.”

Seungcheol freezes on the ground. He had been happily hooking up the game console Joshua just brought from his place to his own screen, but Seungcheol is starting to think that it was all just a ploy to catch him off-guard and distracted. _(Joshua is sneaky and Seungcheol too often falls for every single one of his traps.)_

He returns to his work carefully, aware that Joshua was assessing his reaction.

“Mmm,” Seungcheol murmurs noncommittally, “Yes I know.”

“I also heard that Yoon Jeonghan is actually a close friend of yours,” Joshua has come to kneel in front of him, forcing him to look, “Your _best_ friend, in fact.”

“And so what if I am?”

“You’re not going to go.” It isn’t a question.

Seungcheol’s eyes narrow. “Who told you that.”

“Nobody.” Joshua gets up quickly. Now it’s his turn to avoid eye contact, “Just a rumour I heard through grapevine.”

Seungcheol highly doubts that. To be a part of the rumour mill meant you had to be a part of the _scene_ and he’s been flying really low. He would know; he made sure of it. Joshua looks back with a smirk to confirm that he knows Seungcheol’s not buying it, but he also won’t be revealing anything else.

“Well, whatever. Yes, I’m not going this yea–”

“No, we’re going.”

_“What?”_

“We’re going,” Joshua is very firm, but he’s still got that evil grin on his face. This doesn’t bode well for anybody. “And I want to find out just what kind of person is Choi Seungcheol’s best friend.”

* * *

It’s about as loud and messy as Seungcheol expected.

When they arrive, there were already solo cups strewn across the front lawn and about half as many people passed out on the grass. Shadows hid amongst the bushes – blurry bodies and breathy moans – as the heavy bass of thumping music bled out through the windows. When they entered the house, some of the rooms they peeked into were already filling up with smoke and haze.

“Ah, the epitome of college life.”

Joshua smirks, amused. “You don’t sound very impressed.”

“I’m not.” A drunk person stumbles out from a room in front of him and Seungcheol has to step back into Joshua’s chest to avoid projectile vomit. “Losing your sense of dignity at 7pm on a Friday night does not sound very exciting to me.”

Joshua chuckles, taking his hand. “Come on, let’s go find your best friend.”

Seungcheol crinkles his nose. “Unfortunately.”

“He’s also your only real friend.”

“Now you’re just being mean.”

College parties are still as annoying as Seungcheol expected, but with Joshua pulling him through the crowd, turning back every once in a while to flash him a reassuring smile, he could start to see the appeal of viewing people under dim coloured lighting.

It was a bit intoxicating, how beautiful Joshua was, washed purple and blue and red, and how in the darkness and under loud sounds, there were things they could do that no one would fault them for. Seungcheol has to shake those thoughts away.

Eventually, they find Jeonghan in one of the upstairs bedrooms, the lighting thankfully a regular colour, but still set low enough that adjusting from the darkness downstairs isn’t too difficult. And while Seungcheol doesn’t know them personally, there are more familiar faces here than below.

They were all people from Jeonghan’s various friend groups, and it seems entry into the room was an exclusive affair. There was even a guard standing outside, though Seungcheol realizes it was only just Chan. The freshman nods stoically, letting him in.

Seungcheol briefly wonders whether he was getting paid for this.

“SEUNGCHEOL!” Jeonghan shouts across the room the moment he spots him. “YOU FINALLY CAME!”

All eyes swivelled towards him. Seungcheol wants to melt. He doesn’t do too well with sudden attention. As it is, he unconsciously shrinks into Joshua’s side and Jeonghan does not miss it; not one bit.

Seungcheol feels a little like a lab rat under Jeonghan’s scrutiny. “You brought a friend.”

Seungcheol raises a brow at that. “I thought you invited him.”

“No I didn’t–”

“I did,” someone speaks up from the couch Jeonghan had just got up from. The boy was lanky, tan, and had a sheepish expression on his face. “I knew how much you wanted Seungcheol to come, Hannie, so I asked Joshua for a favour.”

“Joshua, huh,” Jeonghan muses at the same Seungcheol says, “ _Mingyu?_ ”

It gets a little noisy and confusing after that. But Joshua hasn’t let go of his hand, is just hiding a laugh, and Seungcheol is calmed by his presence, less agitated despite the prospect of being surrounded by Jeonghan’s other friends.

For while Jeonghan might be Seungcheol’s only friend (for all intents and purposes), Seungcheol is certainly not Jeonghan’s. Jeonghan has got this magnetism about him that draws people near, pulls them in, and then ensnares them with sharp wit and a big heart to keep them close.

Seungcheol sometimes wishes he has that talent; to capture, enrapture.

But he caught Joshua’s eye by just being himself, so he supposes he’s doing something right.

“Hmm,” Jeonghan appraises after a while. “Well, whatever. Come sit.”

The people in the room are surrounded around a low table, playing a card game. Joshua’s eyes light up. “Poker?”

“Not quite. bridge.” Jeonghan flutters his hands lazily. “Mingyu said I was too good at poker.”

“You can’t catch a _single_ bluff off of him!” said man complains. “And he always gets shitty hands!”

“You’re just too obvious, Mingyu,” someone adds.

Seungcheol disagrees. “Jeonghan does have a great poker face, though.”

“You see!” Mingyu supports.

“Still, it’s not like you’re doing any better at bridge.”

“You probably won more at poker, actually.”

“Do you even know _how_ to play bridge?”

“Everyone quiet!!” Mingyu explodes.

The room bursts into laughter and Jeonghan coos playfully at him, which only sets off a round of angry huffs from Mingyu. Seungcheol has not quite seen his best friend like this. So… openly affectionate with the person he’s seeing. Mingyu – someone he’s only met once or twice when Jeonghan brings him around – must be good for him.

Seungcheol smiles. That’s good. He was starting to worry.

Then unexpectedly, “You don’t know this Seugncheol, but I’ve never lost a single game of poker since junior year in high school.”

Joshua is grinning, this devious little smirk Seungcheol has come to know as trouble.

To Jeonghan, he says, “Play poker with me. Bet I can find your tell.”

A round of whistles goes through the room.

Jeonghan smirks. “You think you can play a round against me?”

“I can _win_ three rounds against you.”

This is crazy. This is the exact kind of college moment people look back on and reminiscence and maybe even regret. But now Seungcheol’s getting excited. Because while he knows Jeonghan is unbeatable at poker, Joshua has challenged him in a variety of games and has somehow managed to almost _always_ win on the first try.

It was anyone’s bet whenever Joshua came into the picture.

He was unpredictable and exciting, just like how he’d set Seungcheol’s whole world turning the moment he walked into it.

It should be noted here first that Seungcheol does _not_ know how to play poker.

While he has a basic idea of what should be happening, most of the information he gathers about how well the game is going comes from gauging the reactions of the people around him. It doesn’t help much. It almost seems like every move and bet both Joshua and Jeonghan take warrants a very loud gasp of some sort. But they all look excited, so Seungcheol knows at least Joshua isn’t embarrassing himself (or vice versa).

The same back and forth goes on for a few more rounds.

They’re betting with potato chips and Seungcheol is pretty sure nobody is counting right because they keep breaking the chips to make more since they’ve used the whole bag, so its messy and greasy and every bit the college experience Seungcheol never thought he’d be glad to witness.

Then Joshua goes all in. Seungcheol knows what _that_ means at least.

The tension is palpable.

Jeonghan doesn’t look very pleased. He doesn’t even look like he’s wearing his usual poker face, and everyone can tell. The crowd is giggling wildly like little kids. Joshua, on the other hand, is all serene, unreadable smiles and innocent eyes. He looks confident, but not too much. Triumphant, but also cautious.

A smiling devil with a halo over his head.

Seungcheol may be biased but he thinks Joshua’s poker face trumps Jeonghan’s any day.

Jeonghan folds. He’s got four of a kind and an ace. The room goes crazy. They think Jeonghan’s made a mistake. Jeonghan thinks so too. But its already happened, his impulsivity catching up to him under the weight of Joshua’s cool gaze.

Joshua throws down his hand.

A full house.

“Is that any good?” Seungcheol demands because he really doesn’t know. Joshua leaps towards him, kissing him full-on the lips.

“It’s terrible,” Joshua laughs, “But I won.”

A burst of pride filled his chest.

Jeonghan’s howling in defeat, Mingyu cackling unsympathetically, but all Seungcheol could register was Joshua’s weight in his arms, Joshua’s infectious joy seeping into his own skin, _Joshua, Joshua, Joshua_. Pulling silver linings out of gathering clouds.

Like sudden rain or standing in the eye of the hurricane – that’s what Joshua is. Seungcheol basks underneath it.

* * *

“Figured out your tell,” Joshua murmurs later, much later, into the night.

Seungcheol has slowly been drifting in and out of wakefulness for the past hour, and now his heads dips into the crook of Joshua’s neck. When Joshua moves, Seungcheol follows.

Jeonghan’s eyes dart to his best friend, resting on the shoulders of a stranger, then back up to the stranger’s face.

“What is it?” he chooses to ask.

“When you’re bluffing, you glance at either Mingyu or Seungcheol.”

Jeonghan hums; not really an answer, but not in denial either.

“I think its because they are the few people who’ve ever been able to see through your mask.” Joshua grins lazily. “Am I right?”

They’re still in Jeonghan’s room, but there’s nobody else except for the four of them now and the noise outside has gone down significantly. The lighting is dim, and the silence is punctuated only by Mingyu’s infrequent snores. He’s sprawled across the floor, head in Jeonghan’s lap, as Jeonghan cards his fingers gently through the messy hair.

“I suppose you’re correct.” There’s a soft smile on Jeonghan’s lips. “And I suppose that Seungcheol is also one of the few who’ve been able to do the same for you.”

They’ve come to an understanding, then.

They fall back into a lull, returning to tending to their respective partners. Jeonghan pulls Mingyu up on the bed and Joshua nudges Seungcheol to lay down on his back. Joshua finds pillows and a blanket and settles them both in as comfortably as they can on the ground, curling up into Seungcheol’s side.

Seungcheol’s already dead asleep when the conversation picks back up.

When Jeonghan asks, “Will you take care of him?”

Joshua replies, “Yes I will. With everything I have.”

* * *

Whatever this is between them has been going on for fourth months and three weeks. Seungcheol isn’t sure how or what to name it but he _is_ sure that he does not _at all_ like how that girl is looking at Joshua; leaning forward, smiling coyly as if – _as if –_ Joshua could possibly want _her?_

She’s leaning ever closer, hands fluttering across his shoulder and Joshua is – Seungcheol _knows_ Joshua is much too nice to say anything about it. In fact, he may not even realize that the girl is flirting with him. (Or if he did, then he didn’t care.)

But Seungcheol _does_ care. A lot. More than he thought he would. More than he thought he could about as something as silly as a frivolous girl trying to gain attention from someone who was clearly not interested. Joshua was – well, not _his_ exactly, but – an important person to him and Seungcheol couldn’t stand the thought of that girl getting any closer.

His legs move before he can think.

Suddenly, he’s sidling up next to Joshua and linking their fingers together. Seungcheol tugs his hand, pointedly ignoring the girl, “Shua, let’s go home.”

Joshua’s gaze slides immediately to him and Seungcheol damn near _preens_ under the attention. “Yeah of course, Cheol. I was done here, anyway.”

There’s something like a sound of protest from the girl but Seungcheol is already pulling them away. “Then let’s go.”

He doesn’t turn back, not until they are well out of earshot and the flighty feeling in his gut has mostly died down to a frustrated simmer. He catches a chuckle and his cheeks burn.

“Cheol, were you by any chance,” Joshua pauses dramatically, “Jealous?”

“No! Of course not!” but he doesn’t meet his gaze and that’s how he knows Joshua knows he’s lying. Joshua just laughs and Seungcheol keeps walking.

But they don’t let go of each other’s hands and when they finally reach his apartment, Joshua takes him by the shoulders and presses him up against the wall, kissing him senseless.

* * *

Sometimes, Joshua gets tired.

And that’s when Seungcheol knows he needs to step up because Joshua has always been there for him when things start to fall apart and its only right for him to do the same. And Seungcheol has noticed that when Joshua gets tired, he gets quiet.

He doesn’t say a word as he makes his way into Seungcheol’s apartment, dropping into the couch like there are weights pulling him down.

Seungcheol hasn’t seen him yet. He calls out, “Welcome back Shua! How was your day–” and stops.

Seungcheol doesn’t think; he just settles down in the seat next to him and in the following moment, Joshua drops his head right onto his shoulder. They don’t say anything; don’t have to. They just listen to each other breathe.

After a while, Joshua turns his face into Seungcheol’s chest, and he takes it as his cue to pull the other close. Seungcheol breathes slow because he knows Joshua wants to follow.

 _In, out. In, out._ Slow and easy.

Joshua lets out shuddering breath after shuddering breath, and Seungcheol rubs his back through it. He doesn’t know when or where he learnt how to do this, but if it helps ease Joshua’s burden just a little, then he would do it until daybreak if he must.

It takes some time for Joshua’s erratic heartbeat to calm today.

When it finally does, he leans his forehead against Seungcheol’s and nuzzles their noses together, _one, two, three_ times. Eskimo kisses. Their own way of saying, _I’m okay. Things are fine now._

Joshua rights himself against Seungcheol’s side and pulls his legs to his chest. They both watch the sun-drenched walls, dappled with shadows in the late afternoon light. Something loud and intangible thrums between them. Seungcheol thinks he could stay like this forever, with Joshua’s leaning against him. He never wants to move.

_I care for you. You are so important to me. Always come to me. I will never leave you._

He doesn’t say a thing. He’s sure Joshua knows.

* * *

Joshua takes him to the river.

Seungcheol has an aversion for rivers; every person he thought he could love had brought him to a river at some point. And every single one took a piece of his heart, only to throw it into the water.

So, when Joshua takes him there, he’s preparing for the inevitable end of whatever this was.

But Joshua takes his hand and they walk the whole stretch. They sit along the banks every few meters to talk, different views of the same dark water. The light starts to fade out from the sky and long shadows yawn out behind them. Streetlamps flicker to life and the only sounds they could hear were the passing cars on the highway far away.

He doesn’t pull out his phone to take photos of the sunset; doesn’t share about this funny story he heard the other day.

Instead Joshua talks about himself; his hopes, his dreams. His fears.

See the thing is, you think you know someone, until they reveal pieces of themselves to you that you never thought could ever fit into the idea of them which you had built in your mind.

Seungcheol _thought_ he knew Joshua; this happy, bright, beaming boy with an uncanny taste for bad jokes and slow dancing. But Joshua is also tears hidden in the shadows – self-consciousness and anxiety. Joshua writes songs he would never sing to cope; Joshua once grew up without.

And Joshua asks, in this little watery voice all broken and hushed, _“Do I scare you?”_

 _“Yes,”_ Seungcheol replies, unable to lie, _“But I don’t mind. Don’t be scared. Not of me.”_

It’s the rawest they’ve both ever been.

Joshua smiles. Leans forward and buries his wet face in Seungcheol’s dry shirt. He ruins it, of course, but as it turns out, Seungcheol doesn’t mind.

* * *

_“Can I hear the songs? The ones… for coping.”_

_“Hmm.”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“Someday, maybe.”_

_“You don’t trust me?”_

_Joshua laughs. “I don’t trust myself.”_

* * *

Joshua loves horror movies.

Seungcheol hates them.

They come to a compromise and that is Seungcheol can hide under the blankets as much as he likes, so long as he accompanies Joshua throughout the whole thing and stays close to keep him warm. It’s a no-brainer, in Seungcheol’s opinion. Joshua feels like home and Seungcheol likes to cuddle.

Joshua watches _Insidious_ and talks through the whole thing, shouting over scary sound effects and picking out flaws in the writing – _damn, can’t the dad just get his_ head _out of his ass? –_ so that it feels less scary than it is, and Seungcheol won’t get nightmares tonight.

Outside, rain pours.

It’s December, almost Christmas. Almost Joshua’s birthday. They met in June. Six months then. Whatever this was. What was it, really? Were they friends? More than friends? Lovers? _Boyfriends?_

Seungcheol isn’t very sure what that consists of but even he knows friends don’t touch like this. To confirm, he buries his face into Joshua’s side and drops little kisses the other would be able to feel even through his t-shirt. Joshua smooths his hair and pecks his forehead in response. The act brings warmth to his tummy. He snuggles closer.

Whatever this was, Seungcheol likes it.

* * *

It’s Joshua’s birthday.

Christmas came and went with the both of them going home to their respective families for the celebrations. At the dinner table, surrounded by his relatives with their own spouses and children, Seungcheol distinctly feels the hollowness of not having someone of his own by his side. He calls Joshua that night and the other man laments feeling the same.

There’s longing in the spaces between their words.

 _“I wish you were here,”_ Joshua murmurs, near the end of the call.

 _“Me too,”_ Seungcheol returns.

The distance felt too far; the time they would have to wait to see each other again nearly insurmountable.

But now Joshua is back in Seungcheol’s apartment and there’s flour and batter and eggshells strewn across his kitchen counter and this – this feels like home too.

Joshua is determinedly pouring cake batter into a pan and there’s bits of butter streaking his cheek. _You’re breath-taking,_ Seungcheol wants to declare.

Instead, he says, “I can’t believe you wanted to make your own cake.”

He gets no response, Joshua too focussed on getting the job done. Seungcheol huffs. Well that won’t do. In a vie for attention he moves around the counter to stand beside Joshua, places a wet kiss on his cheek and effectively licks the butter off.

“Cheol! You’re gonna mess up the cake!” Joshua scolds, hands freezing around the bowl, “And that’s gross. Wipe your spit off me!”

“I was just cleaning the kitchen.”

“You’re disgusting,” Joshua deadpans.

“And you’re beautiful.”

Joshua rolls his eyes. “I know, I know, thank you for the compliment.”

“Wow. You know I can just leave right now.”

“Sure, but this is _your_ apartment.”

Seungcheol gasps. He can never win, could he!

Joshua just sniggers at his devastated expression. “Come on drama queen, help me put in the swirls.”

Seungcheol doesn’t want to waste any more time so he gets it done quickly enough and pops it into the oven to bake. Then he drags them both over to the couch as the smell of butter and vanilla rises through the room.

“So, why wouldn’t you let me buy you one?” Seungcheol asks as they fold easily into each other. Joshua is the little spoon today, so he tucks his head under Seungcheol’s chin. “Cleaning up is going to be hard.”

Joshua shrugs. “I just wanted to spend the time with you.”

Seungcheol frowns, skeptical. “We could’ve spent it together in other ways.”

“Like what, making out and playing video games?”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“We do that every day,” Joshua rolls his eyes, squishes Seungcheol cheeks. “Cheol that’s lame and you’re boring. Keep up!”

Seungcheol fakes a gasp. “Is that it? Is today ‘insult Seungcheol as much as we want’ day?”

“Cheol, don’t!” Joshua wheezes because Seungcheol is blowing raspberries into his neck and Joshua has always been extremely ticklish. “Cheol, you can’t! It’s my birthday!”

“So?”

“So!” he squeals so loud he falls off the couch, “You have to listen to what I say!”

Seungcheol pretends to think about it. “Nah.”

Then they’re rolling on the floor and there’s cushions falling onto the ground and hands tickling everywhere, and Joshua is laughing, so bright and happy and carefree and Seungcheol thinks, _yes, it’s your birthday. And I’m so glad you were born._

* * *

_“Hey, where’s my present?”_

_Seungcheol grins – pulls out the bedside drawer, tosses him a set of keys._

_Joshua’s jaw drops._

_“Seriously?”_

_“Always.”_

* * *

Joshua enters his life like a growing storm; slowly, but with purpose.

 _One, two, three_ pieces of clothes until it’s the bottom drawer and then a whole dresser.

Forgotten socks, an extra toothbrush, his favourite ramen in the cupboard. A hard disk for movies. A photo frame of when they visited the amusement park. A plant to bring life to the living room. _Really Seungcheol, don’t you know how to play with colour?_

And then he’s staying over _two, three, four_ nights in a row.

And then Seungcheol can no longer sleep without holding him close. Seungcheol can no longer imagine waking up alone. Seungcheol can no longer live without him.

“Joshua,” he says very suddenly one morning.

The younger man rolls over to him, eyes still bleary with sleep. He leans in to give Seungcheol a kiss but misses by a few centimetres and hits the corner of his mouth instead. His lips are dry and his stubble scratches Seungcheol’s skin. It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t change a thing. He mumbles, “Cheollie, what’s up?”

“Shua, can you listen to me for a second?”

“I’m listening,” he rubs his eyes to show he really is. “I’m up.”

“Joshua,” Seungcheol swallows. “Joshua, I love you.”

It takes _four, five, six_ seconds for time to catch up, and then there’s a slow smile spreading across his lips. “Yeah? Because I love you too.”

And really, that’s all there was to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to Joshua's middle school mixtape [ here. ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/35YqhzbWP9YK3GQPLDyMhS?si=Le7jUU43TgSLX3tQne95Ag) ;)


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